The Green Chronicles: The Sacred Gift
by PokemonLegacy
Summary: Decades later, Kanto is a very different place. Lucas Green, 15, an aspiring writer from the poor part of Kanto known as The Shell, embarks on an epic journey when an opportunity for a better life presents itself. With the help of his grandpa, Gary, Lucas soon learns during his quest, that all is not as it seems. Join him as he searches for answers and meets new friends & foes!
1. Chapter 1: Fuchsia City Medical Center

**One:**  
**Fuchsia City Medical Center**

* * *

A cold shiver scurried down the perspiring back of fifteen-year-old Lucas Green as he parked his bicycle in front of the large darkened building before him. The night was crisp and his breath was as visible as smoke, but Lucas was well aware that the chills he felt had no relation to the cold. What in the world was he doing here?

Not bothering to chain up his bike, Lucas forced his legs to lurch forward towards the tall, rusted entrance gates. His heart was already thumping against his chest in protest, but he was a journalist after all. He did not have the luxury of time to feel scared.

Lucas stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and fished out a scrap of paper. The glow of the moon and distant light from town was barely enough to decipher the writing, but Lucas had already memorized the content. He gave it one final review.

* * *

_Luke -_

_Got a tip for your school newspaper. Heard from my friend's mom that she's heard screaming from the old hospital on Hudson the past few nights. That place is supposed to be abandoned isn't it? Police say they checked it out but the lady swears she keeps hearing things. Sounded like something your crazy ass would be interested in._

_- Aaron_

* * *

His friend, Aaron, was right. Lucas lived for the scoop. He had always been nosy by nature. And ever since he had learned in school years ago about the famous Alexa of the Lumiose Press overseas he had dreamed of becoming a famous reporter. There was something about being right in the thick of the action, being the person who relays to everyone what is going on in the world. Seeking the unknown gave him an adrenaline rush unlike anything else. It made him feel alive.

At the moment, however, Lucas was feeling particularly fond of feeling alive as opposed to dead or in pain. He wasn't sure he wanted to risk that feeling just to check on some unfounded claim from some woman he didn't know that something was going on inside the old Fuchsia City Medical Center. Besides, the building represented the dark days of Lucas' past that he had done his best to repress over the years, and the idea of returning was not exactly pleasant.

But something about Aaron's tip made it unignorable. Something about the tone and conviction of the woman's voice on the phone had forced Lucas out here despite everything the cops had said. This, Lucas thought, was the downside to his extreme curiosity. He had to see for himself. He needed proof either way.

Lucas drew in a deep breath and gazed up at the shabby brick building beyond the gates. Any activity inside, let alone nefarious activity would surely be front page news. The old hospital had been abandoned for nearly two years, along with many of the homes and businesses in historic Fuchsia City. Once a flourishing community with an abundance of tourist attractions, the recent poverty and hardship going on all around the region had definitely reared its head in Lucas' hometown.

"Come on, Luke. It's time." he muttered to himself, putting everything else out of his mind.

Lucas took note of the large padlock and chains securing the gates. Perhaps it was adrenaline or the intensity of the moment. Whatever it was, Lucas suddenly felt exhilarated, like he was some sort of secret agent or spy on an intelligence mission. Embracing this feeling, he cooly grabbed hold onto the metal bars and hoisted himself up in hopes of cooly jumping the fence.

All manner of swagger was immediately deflated, however, when Lucas promptly lost his grip and tumbled painfully to the dirt. He swore. Thankful that no one had been around to witness his pathetic attempt, he stood up and brushed himself off.

Despite his urge to relent and return to the safety of his house, Lucas' journalistic instincts would not let him give up. He scanned the perimeter of the gates for another way in. The darkness of the late hour was now a hindrance as he searched for any sort of opening. The fence seemed secure.

Not knowing what else to do, Lucas started walking and followed the fence to see if there were any openings. In the moonlight, he noticed that the hospital's windows were boarded up and untended vegetation had begun to swallow the building's foundation. The entire area looked quite undisturbed.

Then Lucas saw it. As he made his way to the southwest side of the building, there was a small service door at the fence's corner. Another shiver overcame him when he noticed that the padlock on the door had been broken off, leaving the metal gate to sway and squeak gently in the breeze.

Maybe the police broke the lock when they checked the building and forgot to replace it, Lucas thought. That had to be it. Who would even want to break into an empty hospital?

Cursing his own curiosity under his breath, he pushed open the door and circled back around the building towards the hospital's front doors. He walked up the front steps and stopped at the large glass doors, which were now grimy with age. He didn't expect them to be unlocked and he was correct.

"Of course not," he said to himself. "That'd be way too easy."

Had it not been for the sliced up padlock on the gate, Lucas would have given up right then and there. There were no other signs of forced entry and the windows that weren't boarded were all dark. He heard no screaming or sounds of any kind coming from inside, but something in the back of his mind was telling him that he should proceed.

After a considerable amount of searching, Lucas found one of the main level window sills had rotted so badly over the years that he was able to break it away from its latch and slide it open. He took his flashlight out of his pocket and used it to peer inside. When he was satisfied that there was nothing of concern to be found, he climbed through the window.

Once inside, Lucas realized that he had absolutely no idea what he was looking for or what he would do if he found it. He looked around the moonlit room. It was a typical patient sickroom with two empty metal-framed beds separated by a curtain, a couple of small guest chairs and a tiny bathroom. He tried the lights, but predictably, nothing. His flashlight would have to do.

Lucas knew this place well. Aside from the tangle of cobwebs hanging along the ceiling and the sediment of dust caking every surface, it looked identical to the room he had spent so much time in as a young boy. Under the narrow beam of his flashlight, he saw that the beds where still made with the same scratchy white sheets, the floors still made up of the same speckled blue tiles.

It felt like just yesterday. Even without the bustling nurses and bright white lights Lucas remembered, the painful memories of this place flooded his mind like a dam had burst.

Feeling suddenly nauseous, Lucas hastily made his way out into the hallway and eventually found the main lobby. More pangs of queasiness quickly set in when his flashlight found the large waiting room flanking the front desk. The same grey chairs lined the walls. He could still see in his mind's eye the pretty pink-haired nurse who had sat Lucas down in the chair closest to the water cooler and delivered the worst news of his life.

Seeing the hospital like this felt strange. The nurse's piercing words felt like they had been uttered only days ago, but the dust and cobwebs proved that years had passed.

The dilapidated state of the familiar hospital was just another reminder of how far Fuchsia City had fallen over that time. The fond memories from Lucas' childhood were just distant dreams by now, the numbness of tragedy making it difficult to believe that such memories had ever taken place.

The arcade where Lucas' mother had taken him for his eighth birthday party had been demolished in favor of housing projects. His old elementary school had been left to rot after enrollment had dropped. His entire world was crumbling around him.

Perhaps this was why Lucas' aspirations to become a famous reporter were so strong. It wasn't just that he wanted to escape Fuchsia City to search for a better life. He wanted to escape the past. He wanted to make his mother proud, and to do that, he had to get out.

Suddenly emboldened by the excitement of the journey he would begin in the morning, Lucas took one last look at the waiting room before quickening his pace around the hospital. By now, he was convinced that the tip he had received was false. There were no clues to indicate anyone had set foot in the building since its closure, but he had already come this far. He might as well make absolute sure that there was no news story to be found here.

After wandering the halls and checking out different rooms at random for a while, Lucas eventually made his way to the stairwell to quickly check out the basement. He had never ventured down there and was curious as to what the hospital had been like behind the scenes. His footsteps clacked and echoed down the concrete steps until they stopped at a metal door. He opened it, revealing a long, narrow hallway.

Lucas' flashlight began to flicker. He swore. He shook it pleadingly, and the strength of the light stabilized itself. Not wanting to get trapped in the pitch black basement with no light, Lucas picked up his pace even more. As far as he could tell, the basement was just a series of winding hallways with a network of pipes and wires running along the ceiling. Nothing too interesting.

As Lucas turned a corner, his flashlight beam stopped on a wooden door with a shiny brass knob. Feeling anxious to wrap up his exploration and return home before his light died, Lucas started to pass the door. But he stopped.

A soft horizontal sliver of white light was peeking through the bottom of the door. Lucas switched off the flashlight to make sure it wasn't just a reflection, but it was not. There was indeed some source of light inside. He took a deep breath and tiptoed up to the door. He carefully placed his ear against the wood and listened for any sign of life.

Silence.

Against his better judgement, Lucas slowly grasped the door knob and turned it. Easing the door open ever so slightly, he peered into the room.

Inside, Lucas found that the light was coming from an open laptop computer sitting on a small table in the corner of what looked like a utility room or janitor's closet. Lucas shined the flashlight into the shadows but saw no one, only the computer.

Lucas was suddenly very aware that his breathing had grown heavy. His heart's pace had once again quickened. Someone was here. A sudden urge to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible came over Lucas. Combating that, however, was an equally strong feeling of curiosity as Lucas gazed at the computer screen.

The latter eventually won as it normally did. Lucas took one more look behind him before creeping towards the desk. He sat down and scooted the laptop closer to himself. There were two windows open on the screen. Lucas enlarged the closest one and read:

* * *

_FROM: Dr. O. Tanaka  
TO: Higher Management  
SUBJECT: Status Report A92 - Operation Special Soldier, Day 84_

PATIENTS: "Xena" (19), "Yosef" (21)

PHYSICAL STATUS:  
As of Day 91, Xena and Yosef are the only two subjects to survive the cell mutation process. All other perished before Phase 2. Currently, both patients appear to be relatively healthy. Vitals are good; Yosef's heart rate is slightly above average.

PSYCHOLOGICAL STATUS:  
Hypnosis and shock therapy seem to be most effective as both subjects are obedient to simple commands. Phase 3 will include commands that could clash with patients' moral standards to test the bounds of their obedience.

NOTES:  
Both subjects are adjusting well to the mutation. Both displayed incredible power, although not great accuracy. Still volatile and unstable, but further adjustments and training should improve precision. Test results against human prey were satisfactory. Results versus adult Arcanine and adult Arbok were mixed, however. Recommend further stimulation procedures, possible hormonal adjustment as well to speed growth.

* * *

Lucas read the message again, then once more. He couldn't make much sense of it. He wondered if he was reading something from a movie. Not knowing what to think, Lucas moved onto the other window and read.

* * *

_-  
FROM: Higher Management  
TO: Dr. O. Tanaka  
SUBJECT: Security Breach Protocol_

_Dr. Tanaka,_

_After convening with the board, we have agreed to let you proceed with the memory adjustment of Officer Jennifer Bryant. We agree that simply disposing of her would create more problems than we need._

_We do advise that you and your subordinates conduct yourselves with more caution. Our intelligence suggests that the security breach occurred when police received a complaint after a resident heard screaming coming from your location._

_Please proceed immediately and get Officer Bryant back to her post as soon as possible before the department starts getting suspicious._

_Keep us updated._

_The Lieutenant_

* * *

Lucas felt the sweat on his brow grow cold at the mention of the police officer and reference to the complaints of screaming. But what really tantalized Lucas was the "memory adjustment." What in the world was going on?

Lucas didn't have long to ponder because the distant sound of footsteps from outside the small utility room made him freeze. He quickly tiptoed to the door and peeked his head out.

Down the long hall hidden behind the corner, Lucas noticed a flashlight beam or two from afar along with soft voices in the distance. Not wanting to find out who was holding those flashlights, Lucas walked briskly and as silently as he could in the opposite direction. He didn't dare turn his own flashlight on, so he used his outstretched hands to guide himself down the hall.

Ignoring the pleadingly loud beats of his heart and his yearning bladder, Lucas stopped at the first door he felt. He took a deep breath and took a moment to collect himself mentally.

Lucas' journalistic gears inside his head began to turn at breakneck speed. Whoever this Dr. Tanaka was, he was certainly up to something. And whatever it was that he was up to, Tanaka and whoever he was working for definitely didn't want anyone to know about it. Surprisingly, Lucas felt excitement once again rush over him.

Still, the voices from down the hall were gaining volume. And despite how badly Lucas wanted to know what was going on, he didn't figure simply walking up to these people and introducing himself would be the best plan of action.

Just before the distant beams of light turned the corner and shone down the hall towards Lucas, he swiftly opened the door and slipped inside. Another dark room. It smelled terrible. Careful to breath through his mouth, Lucas closed the door softly behind him, flipped on his flashlight and turned around to assess the area.

The moment his light found the mangled looking body suspended before him, Lucas nearly wet his pants. A sudden explosion of fear shocked him like an Electabuzz jolt. He would have screamed bloody murder had his voice worked. His brain implored him to run away, but his trembling knees wouldn't budge.

The circle of light quivered under the guidance of Lucas' shaking grasp. A man, probably middle aged, hung from a large hook on the wall like a towel on a rack. Dark blood covered the man's battered face and matted his once-blonde hair. His head drooped towards his heaving chest and his limbs hung lifelessly at his sides.

"Wh-what are you doing here, kid?!" a raspy, exhausted voice suddenly spilled out of the man.

Lucas didn't respond. Terror was dominating his curiosity at this point.

"You must... must get out of here while you still can," the man continued.

"What happened?! What's going on?" Lucas stammered, finally coming to his senses and running over to the man.

Lucas tried to hoist the man's body up and off the metal hook, but he almost lost his dinner when he realized the hook was plunged deep into the man's spine. A faint stream of blood was still oozing from his back, but the majority of it was pooled on the floor beneath him.

Lucas stopped and shined the flashlight all around the room. His nausea exploded once again when he was a half dozen other human bodies strewn around the floor like dirty laundry. Some of the carcasses were missing limbs, others were completely mutilated to the point that they were completely unrecognizable as humans. Lucas could have swum laps in the amount of blood on the floor.

"Leave... me," the man whispered. "Save... yourself. Those... things... monsters."

"M-Monsters?! What do you mean?! What's going on here?"

"Tanaka... made those things... too strong... you-you must get out..."

"Please! Just tell me what Tanaka is up to!"

The man's eyes were glazed over and were beginning to droop closed as Lucas watched his mouth labor to move. But before the man could utter any more words, his body went limp. The man was dead, left to hang like a rag doll.

It was weird feeling to witness the exact moment of someone's death. Lucas felt badly about just leaving the man's body hanging like meat at the butcher shop without so much as a funeral or flowers, but the man's chilling words were enough to make Lucas forget his mission. He had to get out.

Turning on his heels, Lucas again peeked his head out of the door he had entered. Complete darkness. Complete silence. Still breathing heavily, he took off on a dead sprint down the hall back towards the stairwell with only his memory to guide him through the darkness.

Lucas had turned around the second corner when he saw the merciful moonlight from the window in the stairwell ahead. He quickly glanced behind him, but no signs of life. A slight wave of relief came over him. Whoever he had seen walking must be preoccupied. All Lucas had to do was get upstairs and out the nearest window.

Eager to escape, Lucas turned and opened the door to the stairwell.

_**THWACK!**_

Something hard suddenly struck Lucas in the temple as soon as he opened the door. A light shined in his eyes, but his vision immediately started to blacken, his consciousness leaving him like he was falling asleep.

As his legs began to fail and he collapsed to the floor, the last thing Lucas saw was a shadowy figure standing over him in the doorway. There was nothing Lucas could do, though. He blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2: Where There's Smoke

**Two:  
****Where There's Smoke**

* * *

Shrill screams echoed. Booming roars as well. There were endless black hallways, then a vision of a faceless man and a pair of glowing eyes. A sparkling blast of gold light flashed, followed by a beautiful rainbow. Then silence.

Suddenly, whiteness drowned the entire scene as Lucas forced open his heavy eyelids and his surroundings began to solidify. Rays of infant sunshine greeted him, slipping through his partially drawn curtains and bathing his small bedroom in warmth.

With a hearty yawn, Lucas sat up in his bed and was immediately welcomed awake by a pulsing headache. He winced and whimpered before his head fell back down onto the pillow. The throbbing in his temple subsided with his head back in its soft cradle, but what was going on?

Now too confused to fall back asleep, Lucas looked down to see he was still wearing the same dirty green t-shirt and jeans from the day before. How had he gotten to bed?

Lucas scratched his head as if to stir his memory enough to recall, but everything was fuzzy, like waking up from a dream only to forget the details once completely conscious. The last thing he remembered was leaving the house and riding off on his bicycle.

Lucas' grogginess mixed with his still intense headache made it hard to spend too much time worrying about his mental lapse. Maybe it was the lack of sleep Lucas had enjoyed over the past few weeks. He thought about his father and how he would often complain about things called, 'hangovers' after a long night of drinking. Lucas frowned at this. He wasn't anything like his father, besides, he had never tasted booze even once in his lifetime.

Finally working up the strength to get out of bed, Lucas stood and turned to the dirty, cracked mirror hanging on the wall. His amber eyes blinked the last bit of sleep from them revealing just how bloodshot and tired they were. His shaggy brown hair was posed wildly as well, but other than that, there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not so much as a scratch or bump in the area where his head hurt.

Lucas began to strip off his shirt, but the sudden smell of something burning from outside his bedroom stung his nostrils. A few moments later, there was a loud scream from elsewhere in the house.

"Aaah!"

Lucas threw open his bedroom door and sprinted towards the sound. He balled his fists in anticipation of thieves or tramps having broken into the house, which unfortunately was not uncommon these days. But as he burst into the tiny kitchen, all he found was a tall, chestnut brown haired girl standing in the midst of a billowing cloud of smoke.

"Damn it!" Lucas heard her growl.

"Vic?"

Sputtering from fits of coughing, Lucas' older sister emerged from the smoke lifting a pan full of something charred and black from the stove. Her eyes were watering but still held a distinct expression of anger.

"Ugh, sorry to wake you, Luke. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"You wanted to surprise me with a burnt down house? Well, good job. I'm surprised."

Vic growled and held up the pan of fizzling embers, giving Lucas a look of utter loathing.

"No, you Bidoof," she spat. "I was trying to make you pancakes, your favorite kind with the oran berries in them."

"Well, I do like them a little crispy," Lucas replied with a smirk. He deftly dodged the flying dish rag that suddenly came hurtling towards his face.

"Yeah, I was never as good a cook as Mom," Vic said sadly.

Lucas froze. There was a moment of silence between the two before he quickly moved to change the subject.

"Thanks, Vic," he said quickly. "But why pancakes? You didn't have to. Porridge is easier."

"You're telling me," she replied, scraping the ashes from the pan into the sink and wiping her hands on her already-filthy blue work shirt.

"Porridge is cheaper too. And by the way, where did you manage to get oran berries this time of year? That must have cost-"

"Luke, you and your damn twenty questions all the time!" Vic growled, throwing her hands up. She immediately softened, however, and sighed, "Look, I know you have this thing about having to know everything all the time, but can't a big sister just do something nice for her little brother once in a while?"

Lucas finally cracked a smile.

"You? No, that doesn't sound like you."

Vic laughed, and the two of them sat down at the table to their customary morning meal of plain porridge and water from the well. It wasn't much, but as Lucas looked at Vic's careworn and tired face from across the table, the meager bowl of gruel sitting in front of him was like a magnificent feast.

"Victoria," he said. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"You know... everything."

Vic smiled, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly. Her amber eyes met his and suddenly all their back and forth wit and sarcasm had even more meaning. The two of them ate in silence, but it was a pleasant silence this time, as if neither of them wanted the moment to end.

"When do you leave?" Vic finally asked.

"Grandpa said the last train leaves at midday, so I should be off as soon as I can, but..."

He paused.

"But nothing," Vic replied firmly. "We've been over this for weeks. You're going."

"I just don't think it's a good time for me to leave you here. You've seen how Dad's been. He's a mess."

Vic didn't reply. She seemed to be particularly interested in her porridge. She finally sighed deeply.

"Luke, listen. You've got to do this. You said it yourself, it's a great opportunity. You've wanted this since you were really little. Me and Dad... I'll take care of him."

Lucas looked at his sister sitting in her sooty work uniform and was suddenly startled by how grown up she had become. Once pink-cheeked and innocent, Vic's hardened expression and determined eyes reminded Lucas so very much of their mother. A lump formed in his throat.

"Where is he anyway?" he asked.

"The tavern, I imagine," Vic said with indifference. "He wasn't home yet when I got back from my shift this morning."

"Drinking again," Lucas snarled. "Typical. What a waste of space."

"You know it's been hard on him not having Mom around..."

"Yeah? I'm sure it has, but it's been hard on all of us," Lucas said, his voice escalating. "You don't see us shriveling up and quitting! We need him! He's supposed to take care of us, not the other way around!"

Lucas' face was hot and his throat stung. He took a swig of water and slammed the cup onto the table. How could his father be so selfish? Vic was only seventeen and she had already dropped out of school to work in the mines. For the past two years, she had been busting her tail to provide for the family while their father was off on some bender getting drunk.

"You know how bad it's gotten out there," she said. "Dad just needs some time to adjust."

"If you think I'm going to just run off chasing some stupid pipe dream while you're stuck here working yourself to the bone... No, I'm writing to Grandpa right now and telling him the whole thing's off. I'll get a job at the mines too. We need the money."

Vic just smiled back at Lucas, which surprised him. His anger was through the roof, yet something about his sister's grin was comforting.

"Luke," she said softly. "No baby brother of mine is going to work down there. It's sweet of you to worry about me, but you need to do this. Besides, it took a lot of convincing to get Grandpa to agree to help you."

"But-"

"Just stop. Look around us. We live in the Shell. It's a dump. We barely have enough to live on, and things are just going to get worse around here. Even if you, me and Dad all worked the grave yard down in those damn mines, we'd still just barely scrape by! There's something better for us out there! Mesos!

"You've wanted to see inside those walls ever since you were in diapers. This is your chance... This is our chance. I've read your articles you've written for that newspaper of yours, Luke. You're an amazing writer... You're our ticket out of here. Out of Fuchsia, out of the Shell. You are our chance to have a better life."

"What if..." Lucas began. His voice cracked. "... What if it doesn't work out?"

Vic stood up and walked over to Lucas. She placed a firm hand on his shoulder before embracing him in a tight hug, a rare occurrence despite their closeness as siblings.

"It's your dream, Luke. The important thing is chasing it. Whether or not you can actually get us into Mesos, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you try. I won't let you just sit around here until we're old and gray wondering whether or not you could have or should have. Mom would have wanted her son to follow his hopes, his dreams."

Tears were streaming down Vic's face by now. Lucas rarely saw his big sister cry. She had always been the strong one in the family. Even when their mother had passed, Lucas had been a depressed wreck for a long time. Their father had descended into an ever deeper state. But not Vic. She was like their mother: strong, determined and willing to do what it took to keep the family going.

Now it was Lucas' turn. Vic was right. He hated when she was right, but she was. Life out in the Shell was awful, never knowing if there would be food on the table and worrying about desperate bandits breaking in and stealing what little they did have.

"Okay, Vic," he said quietly. "But if I go, there's not going to be any of this 'as long as you do your best' junk. I am going to make it. I am going to get us out of this shit hole. I'm going to buy you a nice house in Vermillion and you won't have to work another day in your life!"

Vic nodded and gave him a watery smile before embracing him once again in another of her precious hugs.

"You make me proud, Bidoof," she said with a giggle and a tousle of his hair.

"I will."

"No, I mean, I already am. I'm proud of you."

With that, Lucas and Vic bid each other a heartfelt farewell to one another with Lucas promising to write as often as he could. Vic, finally home after a nightlong shift at work, still insisted upon preparing Lucas a care package for his journey to their grandfather's house before she would entertain the thought of going to sleep.

So once Lucas had bathed and changed his clothes and Vic had packed clothes and food into his backpack for him, he finally tucked her into bed for a well-deserved rest. Lucas thought of asking Vic about last night and whether or not she remembered him coming home. He was still confused about how he had gotten to bed and the hazy dream he had had, but he decided against it. Her eyes were already closed before her head hit the pillow. Lucas smiled at the peacefulness on her face.

"Lukey, you be careful out there. I love you," she muttered before the snoring began.

Lucas felt tears welling up in his eyes and was suddenly very glad Vic had passed out so quickly. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and hoisted his backpack over his shoulder.

"You too, Vic. I'll be back for you soon."

The train ride from the outskirts of Fuchsia west towards his grandfather's house was relatively uneventful. He had encountered only a handful of beggars at the rundown station, none of whom had threatened him with violence if he didn't hand over his backpack. With how things had gotten lately, Lucas considered himself lucky.

Lucas watched gray and dingy Fuchsia City passing by through the window as the train sped to escape town. If Vic hadn't still been stranded there, Lucas would have been ecstatic to leave it behind. He wished she could have come with him, but she had refused because she couldn't leave their father by himself.

New anger towards the man stewed in his mind the entire ride. Life was tough in the Shell- the nickname that Kanto's outer ring cities and villages had acquired since the walls had gone up. The least his father could do was try. Try to help Vic have a better life. Try to move on from his wife's death. It wasn't fair that Vic had been forced to grow up so quickly. It wasn't fair that she had been robbed of her own childhood and dreams because she had to pick up his slack as provider.

Lucas vowed to use his anger and pity as fuel on his journey. By the time the train had arrived at its destination, Lucas felt so determined that each and every step he took from the station towards Pallet Town felt significant in his mind.

After a few hours of walking, Lucas made his way up the dirt path and stood before quaint, quiet Pallet Town. He looked down into the valley where the peaceful farmtown sat and began to admire its beauty. There were no dirty silver mines, no rundown buildings, no homeless drunks littering the alleys. The grass and trees were still a vibrant green, flanked by gorgeous ponds and streams of still non-polluted crystal blue water.

As Lucas continued down the hill, he eyed his grandfather's house, which sat within the same wooden picket fence on the same large plot of grass. Memories of summers spent playing tag with Vic and the neighborhood kids and riding Ponytas in the fields came flooding back.

Something was wrong though. The house came into better view the closer Lucas came, and his stomach fell as he saw that his grandfather's front door had been ripped off its hinges. It was hanging crookedly to the side, and Lucas could see black smoke billowing into the sky from behind the house.

"Hope he's not trying to make pancakes too," Lucas muttered to himself as he took off running towards the house. The sinking feeling in his gut, however, told him that something wasn't right.

Breathing heavily, Lucas finally reached the front stoop. He rushed inside the open doorway into his grandfather's small living room. Normally tidy and meticulously organized, the room looked like a tornado had blown through. Knick-knacks and papers were strewn across the floor. A lamp lay broken in pieces near the doorway as well.

"Grandpa?!" Lucas called out.

No response. And the heavy feeling of dread persisted. Lucas reached quietly into his backpack and removed a pocket knife his father had once given him. He flipped open the blade and tiptoed through the living room into the kitchen, which was in the same ransacked state as the rest of the house. For the second time that day, the smell of smoke was in the air, but unfortunately, his grandfather wasn't simply standing at the stove burning food.

The scent as well as the clouds of smoke led Lucas back outside around the house to the backyard. As he silently snuck around the corner of the house, a loud whooshing sound made him jump.

Before he could see anything, a huge jet of bright orange and red fire came racing at him like a comet. Just managing to dive out of the way in the nick of time, Lucas screamed in pain. His clothing and hair were singed from the flame, and his chest was bloody from the burns.

Climbing to his feet, his knife still in trembling hand, Lucas turned and saw the source of the fireball.

"Bad timing, kid!" a bald man with a scraggily beard cackled.

There were two strange men standing in the backyard, both wearing oversized duffle bags over their shoulders, which were undoubtedly full of Grandpa's possessions. They were flanked on either side by two menacing canine creatures who were both showing off rows of dagger-like teeth. Smoke was still emanating from their mouths as they growled at Lucas.

"Yeah, we were just leaving," said the other man, who had wild, shoulder-length hair. "Too bad you missed all the fun."

Lucas' eyes grew wide when the two men stepped aside to reveal an old man laying in a crumpled heap in the grass behind them. Unconscious with burnt clothing as well, Lucas' grandfather looked lifeless and small.

Terror pleaded with Lucas, urging him to run or beg for mercy. But the sight of his fallen grandfather made his blood boil. He was beyond sick of tired of this. Desperation and greed were seemingly all that was left in the Shell. Things had gotten so bad that crime had skyrocketed, and Lucas couldn't take it anymore.

"You bastards better hope he's okay," Lucas said, hoping his sounded more courageous than he felt.

"Big talk for a little twerp like you," the long haired thief spat.

Lucas didn't respond. He calmly raised his hands and dropped the knife to the ground before marching towards the men, his arms still up in a motion of surrender. The Houndooms growls intensified, but he walked past the men and their Pokémon straight towards his grandfather. He could feel their eyes on him and figured they were confused as to why he wasn't simply cowering before them. Come to think of it, Lucas was a little confused himself.

A glint of light reflecting off something at his grandfather's side had caught Lucas' eye. Something in his bones was telling him to go towards it. Something inside of Lucas was speaking to him, telling him that all was not lost despite the gruesome burns all across the old man's aged face.

"I don't know what your deal is, kid, but before we go, let's take a look at that backpack of yours," the other man said, holding his hand out as though he expected Lucas to simply hand it over.

Lucas ignored him. He reached his grandfather's side, his back still turned on the bandits. He kneeled down and checked for a pulse. It was faint, but at least there was one.

"Hey, moron! I asked nicely! Don't make me take it from you."

Unsure how he was going to avoid giving up his belongings, Lucas suddenly located the shiny object sitting next to his grandpa's hip in the grass. It was a marble-sized red and white metal orb that had apparently fallen out of his grandfather's pocket. Lucas gasped. A Pokèball? A real Pokèball? Such things were extremely expensive and rare outside of Mesos. Lucas had never even seen one in real life.

"You don't listen too good, you know that? Hand over the backpack and no one needs to get hurt."

Lucas reached down and picked up the Pokèball. The metal sphere felt cool and smooth in his hands, but a certain warmth washed over his entire body as he squeezed it. Something made him stand up and face the men, and suddenly a strange sense of courage erupted inside of him.

"How about you idiots just drop my grandpa's things and get out off his property. Just leave, and we'll call it even. You said it yourself, no one needs to get hurt."

The thieves looked taken aback. The bearded one actually laughed.

"You're a real nutter, you are," he said with a chuckle. "But whatever, have it your way."

He smacked the two fire-breathing canines on their behinds and on command, they barked fiercely and took off on a sprint directly towards Lucas.

The strange feeling Lucas had felt inside of him morphed into something else, a light sense of quiet confidence, like already knowing the answers to an arithmetic test in school. It was the same feeling he would have when writing a news story or investigating for a report for the paper. It felt natural. It felt right. Somehow, Lucas knew exactly what to do.

Mimicking the Mesosian trainers he had seen on television, Lucas pressed the small button on the Pokèball's surface and felt the orb grow to the size of a baseball in his hands. He wound up and fired the ball at the ground in front of the charging Houndooms.

"Fine with me," he said, watching the spinning ball soar through the air. "My way, it is."


	3. Chapter 3: Days Gone By

**Three:  
****Days Gone By**

* * *

With a stupendous eruption of bright white light, Lucas' Pokèball opened, and when the flash had subsided, a small furry creature with four tails was standing right in the path of the stampeding Houndooms.

Lucas' courage suddenly evaporated. His grandfather's huge grassy field was the site of many of Lucas' fondest childhood memories, but right now, neither the nostalgia nor the beautiful Pallet scenery brought him any comfort. An eery tingling sensation trickled down his spine as though he could actually feel how terrified the little Vulpix was to see the snarling beasts charging. Lucas watched as the pup trembled, its paws frozen to the ground.

He quickly realized that he too was trembling, unable to move his own feet, which were rooted in place.

"Vulpix, watch out!"

But before either Lucas or Vulpix could react, the Houndooms pounced. The faster of the two leaped and slammed Vuplix with a powerful headbutt, sending the little pup flying into the air with a whimper. The second beast roared, and a strong jet of red flames shot from its open jaws.

In midair, Vulpix and the firebeam collided. A shrieking yelp rang through the air. Suddenly, Lucas' headache came roaring back, causing him to double over in pain. It was worse this time, like someone was pressing a searing hot frying pan against his temple. The agony didn't last long, however. As soon as the unconscious Vulpix hit the ground and rolled limply across the grass, Lucas' pain was mercifully gone.

Vulpix had landed only a short distance from Lucas' grandfather, and Lucas had never seen a more grim sight than the two bodies lying motionless next to one another. He gulped and turned to see the two thieves cackling with glee as they approached.

"Well, how'd that work out for ya, kid?"

"Not as well as I had hoped," Lucas stammered clumsily. He was unsure of why he was resorting to wit at a time like this.

"Care to join them? Or you gonna be smart and hand over the backpack?" demanded the bearded thief.

"And the Pokèball," his partner added. "Should've checked the old geezer's pockets. Those things are worth a pretty penny. You can keep that useless Vulpix, though."

The men and the two fire-breathing monsters at their sides crept closer. The smell of smoke and the hungry gleam in the Houndooms' eyes were petrifying. Not knowing what else to do, Lucas clutched the strap of his backpack and began to lower it from his shoulder in defeat.

But suddenly and out of nowhere, a flash of bright green light exploded directly behind the men and their Pokèmon with a deafening boom. Thieves and Houndooms and chunks of grass and dirt flew everywhere. The men screamed and their companions howled in agony.

Standing just barely out of the blast's range, Lucas was dumbfounded as his eyes tried to adjust following the blinding flash. What in the world?

But almost as suddenly as the explosion had occurred, Lucas saw his saviors emerging from the cloud of tossed dirt. A hooded man wearing an oversized red cloak was marching calmly across the grass towards them. Lucas rubbed his eyes. Was this a dream?

To the hooded figure's left, a tiny blue creature with green hair waddled alongside. Lucas squinted, but it wasn't until they drew nearer that he could make out the bulbous blue body and feathery green leaves sprouting from its head.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" the long-haired thief roared over his shoulder as he climbed to his feet.

"Yeah, if you're here to clean this place out, get lost! We were here first!" the bearded man added, clutching his side.

Both men and their Pokèmon whirled around to face the mysterious man. Having collected themselves, the Houndooms resumed growling and were practically drooling at the sight of the tiny blue chew toy approaching.

"Oddish," the hooded man said simply and nodded at his companion.

Without warning, the tiny walking vegetable made a flatulent squelching sound and sprayed gobs of black goop from an orifice that Lucas presumed to be its mouth. The sticky substance hit both Houndooms squarely in the face which resulted in more of their high pitched yowls as they stumbled around blindly.

At the same time, the hooded figure sprang into action as well, brandishing a long wooden staff from the holster hanging over his shoulder. With the swiftness of a Hitmonchan, he pivoted and thrashed the first thief's kneecap with the stick, flooring him. In one smooth motion, the man spun like a ballerina and delivered a strong kick to the second thief's throat.

Lucas watched in awe as the two men writhed on the ground while their Houndooms tried helplessly to wipe the sizzling acid from their faces with their paws.

"I hate thieves," the cloaked figure growled from underneath his shroud as he twirled his staff in his fingers. "Assholes. Life's hard enough around here without you shit-eaters stealing from people."

"Now, Houndoom! Speak!" one of the thieves screamed desperately.

Both canines' ears perked despite their blindness and pain, and they obeyed. When they opened their mouths, Lucas expected to hear more ferocious barking, but instead, a terrifying howling noise rang throughout the air. It lingered longer than it should, the sound waves pulsing and ringing sharply in Lucas' ears. It was an uneasy feeling. It was like the sound had the ability to weaken his knees and make him nauseous.

Apparently, the cloaked man felt the same way. He clutched his ears in torture and stumbled to keep his balance. His Oddish, however, seemed completely unaffected.

"Little bugger doesn't have ears," he grunted with a cheerful tone. He gave his Pokèmon another head nod and pointed at the howling Houndooms.

Oddish hopped up and down in apparent acknowledgement and immediately, its leaves slowly began to glow brighter and brighter until they sparkled like the sun against the ripples of the sea. Despite its minimal facial features, Oddish had the expression a person might have when he or she needs to use the bathroom very badly.

Finally, after charging itself to its limits, Oddish released its concentrated energy in the form of a dazzling beam of brilliant yellow light. The beam struck both Houndooms, sending them flying backward once more.

By the time they had gotten up, both canines' coats were charred and smoldering. They limped woozily but soon regained their bearings and snarled. Their eyes were now freed from their sticky blindfolds and the evil gleam with which they looked at Oddish made Lucas shiver. He remembered hearing somewhere the saying that a wounded creature is the most dangerous kind of creature, and he figured it applied here. Both Houndooms seemed insane with rage and desparation.

"Keith, I'm getting sick of this guy!" the long-haired man roared.

"Let's kill that stupid blue onion first! Then we'll deal with this bastard!" the bearded thief replied.

Both men yelled at their respective fire-breathers to attack. Twin flames shot towards the Oddish, and Lucas figured it was a goner. In his experience, plants - not unlike oran berry pancakes - did not normally fare very well against fire and extreme heat. But amazingly, the "stupid blue onion" jumped up and out of reach of the flames with the same ninja-like agility that its master had shown moments prior.

This apparently did not discourage the Houndooms. They continued firing blast after blast towards Oddish, who ran swiftly across the grass and barely dodged each firebeam. Craters of smoking grass and dirt soon littered the entire field as Oddish circled around with incredible endurance.

With one last gasp of breath, the two flame-breathers ejected a final blast of combined fire power. A boulder-sized ball of red and orange hurtled toward Oddish who again barely jumped out of the way.

Unfortunately, with nothing to block its flight, the fireball continued soaring through the air until it struck the house directly at the base of the roof. It crashed through the side of the building like it was made of paper, and almost instantly, smoke and flames rose from the hole. The loud crash of the roof collapsing must have awoken Lucas' grandfather. Lucas felt him stir at his feet. He kneeled down and helped him to sit up.

"Grandpa! Are you okay?" Lucas yelled over the combined sounds of the burning building and the ongoing battle before them.

"Fine," the old man mumbled groggily. Immediately though, the sight of the smoldering structure smacked him awake. "No! The house!"

The hooded man, still wielding his staff, was swinging wildly at the two thieves, who were trying to get close enough to him to tackle him to the ground.

"Oddish, let's wrap this up!" he called out nonchalantly between swipes.

Oddish's round body once again tensed up and trembled. Its leaves again began to glow until a shimmering mist was released into the air above almost like a wet sneeze. The wind quickly caught the strange mist and blew it in the Houndoom's direction. Sensing that something was wrong, the two canines tried backing away from the floating spores but to no avail. The powder in the air rained down upon them like confetti.

After a few seconds, the Houndoom's bodies went stiff and they collapsed to the grass. Their eyes glazed over and they began to twitch uncontrollably in their state of paralysis.

The man in the red cloak reached inside it and pulled out a Pokèball. He pointed it at his Oddish, who had stopped to nibble on some of the exposed dirt after a job well done. Lucas stared as a laser-thin beam of red light protruded from the ball and engulfed Oddish until its form disappeared back inside.

Now without their protectors, the two thieves began to cower as the hooded man walked towards them gripping his staff with both hands.

"Now, what were you saying about killing my stupid blue onion and then dealing with me?" he growled from inside the hood.

The two thieves said nothing as they took off running across the field as fast as their damaged bodies would allow, leaving behind their duffle bags full of stolen goods and their paralyzed Houndooms.

"Cowards," he spat as he re-holstered his staff.

The low rumble and loud crackling from the house soon stole Lucas' attention away from the fleeing bandits and the man in the red cloak. The flames were enormous now, having fed on the entire roof. The thick smoke was so widespread that it looked like a black tornado had touched down.

"Nooo!" Lucas' grandfather yelled.

The old man struggled to climb to his feet, shrugging off Lucas' attempt to help him up. Once he finally managed to stand, he took off running towards the house before Lucas could stop him. Oddish's master was apparently surprised as well. He just stood and watched as Lucas chased after the man.

"Grandpa! Stop! What are you-"

With surprising gracefulness, his grandfather reached into his pocket and removed another Pokèball. Still sprinting, he hurled it in front of him towards the house. Another flash of white light, and a round, blue creature a bit bigger and wetter than Oddish appeared right at the edge of the burning building.

"Poliwag!" the old man commanded between fast breaths. "Aim at the flames!"

The small tadpole obliged, and a shockingly powerful stream of white water ejected from its mouth like a fire hose. Lucas had no clue how so much water could come out of something so small, but the jet of water still wasn't enough to completely defeat the inferno that was devouring the house.

Lucas' grandfather scooped up the Poliwag into his arms as he ran past, holding the still spewing Pokèmon at arms length while he ducked his head and ran inside through the smoking backdoor.

"No!" Lucas shouted after him.

He was frozen in place, not willing to believe what he was seeing. Why was his grandfather running back in the burning building? Had he hit his head or something? This was insane!

Moments went by. They felt like minutes, hours even. The flames were audibly roaring now, and Lucas felt sick. Grandpa couldn't be gone. Guilt and confusion began to set it. What was he doing still standing there? He had to go in after him.

Taking a deep breath, Lucas covered him mouth with his shirt sleeve and started to make for the backdoor as well.

But just as he took his first steps, the old man finally emerged from the blaze, bursting through the door with Poliwag still in his arms. He staggered onto the lawn and collapsed during a fit of coughing and weezing. His clothes were even more soot-covered and torn than before, his gray hair wild and singed. Poliwag looked exhausted from all the water it had used, but otherwise unscathed in the old man's arms.

"Grandpa! What the hell?!" Lucas yelled as he ushered him back a safe distance away.

Lucas' grandfather took a knee and returned Poliwag to its Pokèball. Lucas noticed a small leather satchel hanging off the man's heaving shoulders. What could be so important about this bag? Had Grandpa finally lost his mind in his old age?

"The house..." the old man said in a fleeting tone. He gazed sadly at the fallen building and gave Lucas a one-armed embrace.

Lucas stared at the house as well. It was a sad sight watching the building go up like this, as though all his old childhood memories from those summer trips to Grandpa's house were being destroyed as well.

"Congratulations, old man," a sharp voice said, snapping Lucas out of his trance.

Lucas had nearly forgotten about the man in the red cloak in all the excitement. Still hidden underneath his hood, the man approached them. Even though Lucas couldn't see the man's face, it was clear by his gait, that he didn't seem particularly friendly.

"I hope whatever is in that stupid bag is worth almost dyin' over," he said.

"Ah, just some old family treasures," Lucas' grandfather replied, distant and sad. "When you're my age, you'll understand."

The hooded man scoffed.

"Thank you, by the way, for stopping those thieves," the old man said more alertly. "My name's Oak. Professor Gary Oak. And this is my grandson, Lucas."

Grandpa extended his hand towards the cloaked man and smiled as though it wasn't weird at all that he still had his face hidden by the hood.

"I didn't ask what your name was, you fossil," the man spat without returning the handshake. "Like I said, I just hate thieves, that's all."

Before Lucas or his grandfather could reply, the man turned on his heels and started walking back the direction he had come from. Halfway out of the yard, he stopped and turned back towards Lucas and Gary.

"Oh and kid, that Vulpix of yours is pathetic."

Lucas gritted his teeth in anger as he watched the man disappear down the road. Who the heck did this guy think he was? Sure, he was grateful for his timeliness and that he had saved them from the thieves and their Houndooms, but what was his problem? And what was the deal with the hood?

"The house is gone," Gary whispered bitterly. "How could I have been so careless?"

The fire had begun to weaken, sleepy after its huge meal. The whole of the house was gone. All that remained were a few blackened beams and a pile of ash.

"It's not your fault, Grandpa. Those thieves weren't messing around. They were ready to kill."

"In my day, I would've pounded those wannabes," Gary muttered under his breath.

Lucas just chuckled. Grandpa always talked a big game, but Lucas had a hard time believing that his old, gentle grandfather could have been much of a fighter even back in his youth.

"Promise me something, Luke."

"What's that?"

"I know times are tough and it's not easy out here," he said, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder and looking stern. "But just do your best in whatever you do. Don't let yourself get to be my age and look back with regrets. It tears you up inside..."

Gary's voice trailed off, and Lucas didn't know what to say. It wasn't like Grandpa to act so melancholy. He was normally so spry and sarcastic, always a good source of laughs.

"Come on," Gary said in a more chipper tone of voice, perhaps realizing what Lucas was thinking. "The house was ancient anyway, and those pukes had already gotten all the valuable stuff out. Let's go to the lab. I'll deal with this in the morning."

And so Lucas helped his grandfather chain the abandoned canines to the fence and gather up the duffels before they made the short walk across Pallet Town to the large, familiar building up on the hill underneath the ancient windmill.

Gary Oak's laboratory had been passed down to him from his grandfather many years ago. It was an incredibly interesting place to Lucas. It always had been, ever since Lucas was old enough to walk. It was like a museum or a space ship, filled with endless wonders and stories from years past. Grandpa had been a biology professor and a researcher for the better part of his life. When Lucas was younger, he had relished the opportunity to hear endless stories about Grandpa's crazy discoveries and projects.

Recently however, ever since the walls went up around Mesos and things went south for the people of the Shell, Lucas hadn't seen much of the old lab. Every time he and Vic would visit, Grandpa would have some excuse for not taking them there. They'd stay cooped up in the house because the lab was either closed for renovations or cleaning or needed to be painted. Lucas had become suspicious about the real reason for the lab being off-limits, but never forced the issue. It was a relief to finally be back inside. With all the uncertainty and hardship all around them, the lab and Pallet Town in general still reminded Lucas of the good old days.

"I'm sorry about all the excitement, Luke," Gary said when they entered the lab and made their way downstairs to the large living room. "Not exactly the sort of welcome I had in mind for my favorite grandson."

"You always say that," Lucas said with a grin. "I'm still your only grandson."

"Yeah, well you'd be a pretty big failure if you weren't my favorite then, wouldn't you," Gary replied, playfully punching Lucas in the arm.

Gary lit some candles and left the room briefly. Judging by the amount of dust and lack of electricity, Lucas figured that his grandfather hadn't stepped foot inside the laboratory in a long time. This troubled Lucas, but again, he didn't ask about it. Gary soon returned with a kettle of tea and a plate of stale bread and a small block of cheese. Lucas brushed the dust off the old, torn couch and ate ravenously. He nodded his thanks in between bites.

"It's not much," the old man said. "A far cry from the days when your mom would yell at me for feeding you too many cookies and all that candy as a kid."

Lucas missed candy and cookies. It was another grim reminder of the times, but even so, he chuckled and smiled at his grandpa as he sipped his tea.

"Who do you think that was? The weird guy in the cloak?" he asked when he was finished eating.

"Not sure, probably just a passerby or a drifter. But enough about all that. Let's talk about this project you wanted my help with."

"I know, I know, Grandpa," Lucas sighed, getting ready to make the argument he had rehearsed. "I know you think it's a bad idea. I know it's not exactly the safest time to be traveling, but-"

"Nonsense," Gary said, cutting him off. "You've got to go for it."

"Wait, what? When I talked to you last, you were going on and on about how you thought it was a waste of time! I had to practically beg you for your help."

Gary nodded in agreement as he drained his tea cup and leaned back against the couch.

"This is true. The Battle Quest is a stupid competition concocted by the big wigs in Mesos. It's just an opportunity for Mesos to make fun of us, to exploit us... to show how much they own us."

"But look at the T.V. ratings and all the publicity! People eat that stuff up!" Lucas replied, his voice raising. "And I'm going to take advantage of it. I'm going to get into Mesos no matter what! Vic deserves-"

"Lucas, you aren't listening to me," the old man interrupted again.

Lucas stopped. He realized he was now standing and had knocked over his tea cup. Embarrassed, he sat back down.

"I had planned on trying to talk you out of doing this when you came to visit," Gary continued. "But getting my behind handed to me by those thugs today, seeing the old house go up in flames, it made me realize something."

"What's that?"

"You only get one go 'round at this thing. We wake up each morning thinking that we always have tomorrow. We always think we have all this time to achieve the things we want to achieve. But one day, you wake up an old fogy like me and realize that life has passed you by!"

"Grandpa..." Lucas said quietly. It was strange to see his normally upbeat and carefree grandfather preaching so seriously. The attempted robbery and the fire must have really gotten to him, Lucas thought.

"You're young, Luke. Don't let life pass you by! Even this life, your life, which has more obstacles than someone your age should have to deal with. My point is that, until today, I had forgotten what it's like to want something so bad that you'll do whatever it takes to get it. It's a young man's feeling, like a fire inside you. I don't want you looking back years from now and wondering what might have been."

"I want to do this," Lucas said as he looked his grandfather squarely in his dark viridian eyes. "I have to do this."

"Indeed. And you will... tomorrow."

Lucas nodded, feeling somehow emboldened by his grandfather's unexpected vote of confidence. It helped a lot to have his grandfather on his side. Vic had always supported him, but this was different. Grandpa was the scientist, the logical one. Despite all the rational reasons to give up and return to Fuchsia, his grandfather was giving him his official blessing, and that was huge.

"Tomorrow," Lucas said in agreement, a sparkle in his eye.

"There's a spare bed made for you upstairs. You'll get a goodnight's rest, and tomorrow we'll talk about your plan. Then you can be on your way."

Lucas still had questions about the hooded man, the shabby state of the lab, and the contents of the satchel that his grandfather had risked his life for. He had so many emotions and thoughts brewing inside his head, but he figured that there would be time for this tomorrow. He suddenly realized that this "wait for tomorrow" attitude was precisely what his grandfather had been preaching against, but he didn't push things. Grandpa had had a very long day.

"Thanks Grandpa... You know, for understanding."

Gary stood and patted Lucas on the head. He smiled warmly and yawned.

"Lucas Green, you're your mother's son, that's for sure," he replied proudly. "And it's you I should be thanking."


	4. Chapter 4: Dear, Victoria

**Four:**  
**Dear, Victoria**

* * *

_Dear Vic,_

_I wanted to write to tell you that I finally arrived safely at Grandpa's, but I realized that I'm not even sure how I'll get this letter to you with how unreliable the post has been lately._

_You know me though. Writing things down always calms me down when I'm stressed. So even if you never read this, it helps to put it down on paper. And boy, there's a lot I want to tell you._

_Grandpa's house got burned down. And yes, I'm serious. When I got to Pallet, a couple of thieves had ambushed him and were trying to loot the house. I tried to stop them with one of Grandpa's Pokèballs, but getting a Pokèmon to win a fight is way harder than it looks on T.V. I don't think I'd be much good at training Pokèmon. No need to worry though. Luckily, some weird traveler who was passing by took care of the thieves, and Grandpa and I are fine. But during the fight, the house caught fire. It's gone. We're staying at the lab._

_Grandpa is trying to make it sound like it's no big deal, but I can tell that he's really broken up about it. It's weird too. He hasn't even lived in that house that long. I remember when we were little, he bought it after that old lady who had lived there died. I can't remember her name. Deela? Delilah? I know Grandpa grew up in Pallet, but I wonder why this particular house seems so special to him?_

_I wanted to ask him about all this, but I remembered you telling me that I always ask too many questions. Plus, I don't have the heart to badger him about it when he's so upset._

_Grandpa did agree to help me get ready for my trip, though. We listened to a thing on the radio about the Battle Quest. Sounds like the whole thing begins tomorrow. Anyone who wants to compete just has to travel around the Shell and find each of the Elite Four and beat them in a one-on-one Pokèmon battle._

_I can tell Grandpa's worried. He says the Battle Quest is just something the higher ups in Mesos cooked up as a way to mock the Shell. He says the whole thing is set up to make us look weak. Only two people have ever won the thing and gotten out of the Shell in all the years that it's been going on._

_"They just want to remind us where our place is," he says._

_I get where he's coming from, but the weird part is that he still wants me to go for it. He sounds different when he talks about the Battle Quest, like he's thinking about his childhood. He did say they had something similar to the Battle Quest back when he was a kid. Something about badges and gyms. Apparently they had people called the Elite Four too, but they were different. I don't really remember all the details of what he was talking about. He was rambling like he tends to do, but maybe this whole thing just reminds him of those days._

_Grandpa says back then, though, people didn't participate because they were trying to get out of the Shell. They did it for the thrill itself. They did it for glory. They did it because it was fun. He says it's a shame that those days are over. It's hard to imagine how things were before Mesos and the wall._

_Anyway, I told him about the plan: travel around and try to find these Elite Four trainers. If I'm lucky, I'll be able able to find some Battle Questers who are willing to be interviewed for my project._

_Each year, when we watch the Battle Quest on T.V., we just see these people getting their butts kicked by the Elite Four and that's it. We never get to hear their story. Why have they left their familes to chase this virtually unattainable dream? What's life for them like out here? What drives them?_

_This is exactly what I want to do. These are the stories that need to be told. Maybe if people see how messed up things are in the Shell, things will get better. I really think this could be big! Maybe I can even get someone to publish it and get paid enough to get a ticket into Mesos. I know I'm probably being stupid, but I've got to try. The first Elite Four member is supposedly somewhere in Pewter. I figure I'll head there and see if I can meet anyone interesting._

_Oh, and guess what?_

_Grandpa's given me two Pokèmon!_

_And guess what else?_

_He gave me six Pokèballs in case I find other cool Pokèmon in the wild and want to try to catch them! Up until today, I had never held a Pokèball. I'd never even seen one up close. I don't how he came up with the money for one, let alone six, but I'm grateful. Grandpa says that "back in his day" everyone had them. You could just go down to the corner mart and buy them or even find them laying on the ground! Wow!_

_Anyway, Vulpix and Poliwag are my two new companions. I was a little worried because I don't want to leave Grandpa without any Pokèmon to protect him, especially with what happened with the thieves, but he wouldn't hear it. He says if he's going to let me wander around the Shell by myself, I'm taking Vulpix and Poliwag for protection._

_It's okay though, Grandpa has two Houndooms who are going to live with him now. The thieves left them behind. I thought they were pretty scary at first, but once Grandpa fed them, they took a liking to him pretty quickly. He certainly loves them. They're actually pretty cute! Or as cute as a pair of fire-breathing beasts can be, I guess._

_I kind of wish he'd given me the Houndooms instead. Poliwag is cool. He can spit water, which is pretty useful. Grandpa says he will grow bigger and stronger too. But Vulpix is just a puppy. She isn't much of a fighter as far as I can tell, and I'm not sure how helpful she would be if I ever ran into any trouble. Grandpa seems to think I can train her to protect me, but I'm not sure. I'll be fine, though. If nothing else, I'm a fast runner if I get into a bind._

_Grandpa also gave me some weird little red computer device to take with me. A Pokèdex he called it. He says his grandfather gave it to him many years ago, and that I can use it to identify any Pokèmon I might see during my journey. Useful, I guess. I just hope the thing still works. It looks ancient!_

_The Pokèdex was in some leather bag that Grandpa insisted on retrieving from the house when it burned down. The man is crazy sometimes, Vic. He actually ran into the fire to save this thing._

_He showed me what was in the bag tonight. There were a lot of those little badges I mentioned and some other random trinkets._

_There were some old photos of him from when he was a kid. He had crazy hair back then. And did you know he used to have a Squirtle? And an Umbreon! I've never even seen one in real life! There were also pictures of some of his childhood friends. It was cool to see those. Grandpa used to be just like us._

_But the thing that Grandpa was most relieved to have saved from the fire was some strange necklace made from some twine and a broken Pokèball. It's just the red half. The other part is gone, he says. I'm not sure why it's so important to him, but he seems really happy that it didn't get destroyed with the rest of the house. Again, I wanted to hear the story behind it, but I didn't push it._

_Sorry, I'm rambling._

_I miss you already, Vic. I hope things are going all right back at home. Is Dad back? I hope he's at least pulling his weight around there. I wish you could have come with me. I still feel bad that you're stuck at home and at the mines. I told Grandpa about this, but he says you are strong just like Mom. He's right, and that made me feel a little better. You know you're my hero, right? You've done so much for me since Mom died, and I promise you that I will repay you._

_I can't wait to take you to Mesos with me once I get the money to get in there._

_Hang in there, though. Please. I'll be home before you know it, and then maybe you can have another go at those pancakes. Just kidding!_

_I leave Pallet in the morning for Pewter. I'm scared, but a little excited. I'm excited to at least have a chance to make our lives better. Hopefully, I'll figure out a way to get this letter to you. Either way though, I love you. Grandpa sends his love as well._

_See you soon!_

_Love,_

_Lucas_


End file.
